


Deceit Hidden Behind a Smile

by ParkerCuddles



Series: IronDad Bingo [2]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Irondad, Irondad Bingo 2019, Non-Consensual Touching, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Precious Peter Parker, Tony Stark Has A Heart, nothing horrible happens i promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-26 22:13:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19777507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ParkerCuddles/pseuds/ParkerCuddles
Summary: A modern day take on Skip Westcott and Peter Parker, featuring biodad Tony





	Deceit Hidden Behind a Smile

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! This is my second installment of my irondad bingo. Just a little note that while I have marked this as rape/non-con, nothing extremely graphic happens. There is only a bit of non-consensual touching but nothing goes further than that. If this is triggering to you, please don’t read! 
> 
> Thank you!

Peter had just gotten his shirt on when someone appeared beside the row of lockers. He jumped, startled, and pressed his lips together. The boy standing before him was older, taller, and a lot more popular, so Peter was confused as to why they were currently face to face. 

“Hey, Peter. Did I scare you?” the boy, Skip, asked. In response, Peter paled a little at the prospect of having to talk to the older boy. 

“U-Um, yeah uh, just a little. Sorry.” 

Peter was pulling at the hem of his shirt, a nervous habit, his nerves only growing stronger when the icy blonde gave him a smile with even icier teeth. 

“Well, don’t be shy. I actually wanted to talk to you about something,” he’d said, and Peter’s lips scrunched to the side of his face as he realized the inconvenience of the situation. On one hand, talking to Skip would probably be pretty cool. He didn’t have many friends after all. However, their warning bell had already rung, and Peter knew he needed to get to class. 

“W-We’re gonna be late,” he stressed, and Skip grabbed his shoulder. 

“Don’t worry about it, Einstein; I’ll get us a note.” 

At that, Peter settled down a bit, but the prospect of skipping class was still daunting, even if it was only for a few minutes. 

“You don’t look too sure there,” Skip said, quirking a brow. 

“I-I’ve never cut class before,” Peter responded, internally berating himself for making himself seem like even more of a nerd in front of the jock. 

“Don’t worry about it. It’s not cutting if you’re still gonna show up; you’re just a bit late s’all.” Skip smiled at him, and he returned the smile, a bit more tight on his end. 

“Well, what did you wanna show me?” Peter asked, thinking back on Skip’s original motive, and he watched as the elder’s eyes lit up. 

“Thanks for reminding me, Einstein. It’s actually pretty cool. You like science, right?” Skip replied, and this time, it was Peter’s turn to light up. 

“Y-Yeah, it’s my best subject. Me and my dad work on stuff all the time. Actually, if you like science too then maybe-“

“Actually I had an experiment in mind,” Skip cut Peter off, and Peter tried not to feel hurt. He had ambushed the older boy with his rambling, and he hadn’t actually been the one to start the conversation in the first place. 

“O-Oh, okay. Yeah! What did you have in mind? I like experiments,” Peter said with a smile, an innocent smile. 

At that, Skip reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone, unlocking it and scrolling around a moment before sitting and gesturing for Peter to do the same. 

“Look, Einstein,” he’d said as he pulled the younger boy closer, his eyes widening once he saw the screen of Skip’s phone. 

It was a video of two men, two boys, doing obscene things, things Peter had only vaguely heard of in the locker room after gym. He watched in slight horror as the larger boy inserted a finger into the smaller’s bottom, eventually replacing it with his... with his thing. 

In his horrified state, he’d barely registered Skip’s hand on his knee that was slowly creeping upward until the elder murmured, “C’mon Einstein, why don’t we conduct an experiment of our own? We should try out the stuff they’re doing.” 

Once the words had actually registered in Peter’s mind, reality began to set in and he turned to the elder, his eyes wide, and frantically shook his head. He shoved the advancing hand off his hip and jumped up, still wildly shaking his head. 

“N-No, no way, Skip.” 

He hated how his voice trembled, how easy it was to tell he was terrified, but he hated it even more when Skip got up and stood in front of him, looming over him like a dark cloud.

“Oh, c’mon, Einstein.” His voice was smooth. “Don’t be such a tease. You can’t tell me you’ve never seen anything like that, never done anything like that. Pretty little thing like you can’t really be so pure.” 

Peter’s bottom lip was trembling, his fear making itself known physically, bile creeping up his throat. 

“G-Go away, Skip. I-I gotta get to class.”

With that, he grabbed his bag and rushed out the gym door, checking over his shoulder for danger. 

Once he made it to his classroom, he knocked on the door a bit too hard for necessity, the teacher opening up with an exasperated expression. 

“Parker, you’re late. Go take a seat, quickly.” 

He nodded his head quickly, making his way to his seat when he realized he’d never gotten his note. 

+

Peter had spent the rest of the day with his head down. Any laughter he heard, he immediately thought was directed towards him, as if Skip had spilled the encounter to the entire school. His hands trembled through the rest of his classes, and by the time Happy picked him up, he was exhausted. 

“Hey, kid, how was school?” Happy had asked as he did every time he picked the boy up, but instead of launching into an enthusiastic story like he usually did, he only shrugged. 

“S’okay,” he mumbled, head still down, and Happy knew something was up. Peter was never not a ball of energy, so to see him so spent was worrying. 

He’d shot a text to Tony, telling him something was up with the kid, before pulling out of the high school parking lot and into the afternoon traffic. 

As the drive wore on, Happy kept an eye on Peter. The boy never perked up, and by the time they’d reached the tower, he was almost completely closed in on himself. Happy rode up to the penthouse with him, and when Peter walked away from his dad’s greeting, the two men began talking. 

“Did something happen?” Tony had asked, not used to seeing his usually energetic kid so out of it. 

“I’m not sure; he got in the car like that. Didn’t say a peep,” Happy responded, and Tony sighed. 

“Well thanks for telling me. I’ll keep an eye out and let you know.”

Happy saluted, and with that, he was back in the elevator, leaving Tony to deal with Peter alone. He’d decided to give Peter a little while- maybe he’d had a bad day and needed to cool down- and went down to his lab to work, where Peter knew he could always find him. 

While Tony was in the lab, Peter was in the shower trying desperately to wash the day away. He knew realistically that what had happened wasn’t his fault, but he couldn’t help but still feel that maybe it was. Maybe he’d given off the vibe that he’d be okay with something like that? But no, that couldn’t be right, because he and skip had only ever had one previous interaction. There was no way Skip thought he’d be okay with that. Still, it didn’t lessen the internal feeling of grime that he tried to scrub away. 

He’d been in the shower nearly forty minutes when JARVIS interrupted, telling him. “Peter, you’ve been in the shower for thirty seven minutes; should you remain in the shower another eight, I must alert Boss.” 

Sighing, Peter mumbled a quick, “Getting out now,” to the AI, shutting his water off and grabbing a towel. As he dried off, he looked at himself in the mirror and couldn’t help but think something looked off. Had his encounter with Skip changed him somehow? He knew it wasn’t actually possible, but something just didn’t feel right. Turning away from the mirror, he continued to dry off, eventually putting on loungewear and heading straight for his bed, where Tony found him an hour later. 

Walking into the dim bedroom, Tony had set his eyes on the sleeping lump in the bed, and frowned. He crouched beside his sons figure and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, shaking it in the slightest as he murmured a quiet, “Time to get up, Underoos.” 

Eventually, Tony was able to rouse Peter, the boy blinking sleepily at his father. “What time s’it?” he’d asked, and Tony smiled. 

“It’s almost six, kiddo. You need to eat something,” he’d answered, and watched as Peter’s face contorted into a frown. 

“M’not hungry,” the boy had answered, which Tony knew was a lie. The boy was always hungry; he was a teenager! Little did he know, Peter truly wasn’t hungry. All he could feel in his stomach was dread, either of Skip approaching him again, or of his father finding out what had taken place. 

Tony sighed. “Well you need to eat something. I know you didn’t when you got home. Why don’t I order something while you get up and do your homework? I know you have it.” 

This time, it was Peter’s turn to sigh. He sat up and stretched, feeling his bones pop as he finally got out of bed and made his way over to his desk. As he started on his homework, he felt his mind to drift to what had taken place previously in the day. He just couldn’t wrap his mind around it. Skip had been wrong; he’d never seen anything like that, and he certainly hadn’t done it either. He knew most boys his age were already getting into sex, but he just hadn’t. He hadn’t even had his first kiss, much less done anything like the acts in the video. It made him shiver to think about it, stealing any bit of hunger he may have had. So when his dad popped in his room twenty minutes later to tell him dinner had arrived, he’d ignored the man, only leaving his room when Tony practicality dragged him out.

Dinner had been awkward, the man trying to make conversation with his son only to be shut down with short, quiet answers, or nothing at all. He tried not to become impatient; Peter was a teenager after all, and all teenagers were moody from time to time. Still, Peter rarely ever was, and Tony found himself worrying. 

“Did something happen at school today, kiddo?” he’d asked, and he watched as Peter froze up, only for a second. 

“N-No, dad,” the boy had stuttered. “Nothing happened.”

“You sure?” Tony pried, which pushed Peter over the limit. 

“I’m sure, dad,” he’d grunted irritably, pushing away from the table. “Now can I be excused? You pulled me away from homework.” 

Tony pursed his lips. “Fine, Peter, but I hope you can work on that attitude of yours while you’re at it.” 

If he would have looked up from the table, he would have seen the tears in Peter’s eyes as he walked away, the boy lifting a hoodie covered hand to wipe his eyes as he walked away. 

The rest of the night had passed in relative silence, Peter staying in his room and Tony working in his lab, an avoidance tactic. Later that night though, after JARVIS had informed Tony that it was nearing Peter’s bedtime, he made his way back his floor and into his bedroom, something that had become normal once Peter was born. He was almost always in his own bed once Peter went to bed so that he could make sure nothing was wrong, and he was glad he’d adopted the habit when, half an hour after he’d gotten the alert, a knock came at his bedroom door. 

Of course, it was Peter, and when Tony had called out, “Come in,” the door opened to reveal a slightly disheveled teenager clutching a pillow. 

“Can I sleep here tonight?” he’d squeaked, and Tony softened. He patted the spot next to him, Peter gratefully running towards it and under the covers, visibly relaxing once he’d settled down. 

“Everything okay?” Tony asked as Peter cuddled into his side, and the boy nodded. 

“I’m fine,” he answered, though Tony could tell it wasn’t the whole truth. 

Instead of prying further, Tony left it at that, knowing Peter would come to him when he was ready. “Well, goodnight, kiddo.” 

“Goodnight, dad.” 

+

Peter had been dreading gym all day, the previous days events still fresh in his mind. He thought maybe he was in luck; he hadn’t seen Skip all day, so maybe he wasn’t there. 

Wrong.

Walking into the locker room, he was met with not only the usual stench of sweat and utter _boy_ , but the back of a very tall, very blonde Skip Westcott. 

Swallowing his anxiety, Peter rushed into a stall before Skip could notice him, hastily pulling himself out what would have become a very bad panic attack. 

_Pull yourself together, Peter,_ he thought. _He can’t do anything with the whole class here._

Once again, Peter was proven wrong when he opened the stall door to be met with an empty locker room. Well, save for the menacing blonde leaned against the lockers. 

“W-What’re you doing, Skip?” he’d asked, hating the way his voice shook. Skip would never take him seriously, would never leave him alone if he knew he was terrified. 

“Well, coach thinks you aren’t feeling well, and I am sort of the model student around here. I told him I was helping you pull yourself together.” 

“I-I’ll tell.” Peters face was pale. 

“See, I don’t think you will.” Skip smiled. “Because if you do, then I’ll tell too. I’ll tell everyone what a little bitch you are, coming in here begging for me to show you a good time.” 

Peter paled further. No, that couldn’t happen.

“So why don’t you come on over here and talk,” Skip suggested, that bright, white smile making Peter feel sick as he walked closer to the older boy. 

As he sat down on the bench in front of Skip, the elder winked and then sat down beside him. Too close for comfort. Much too close for comfort. 

“I was thinking about you all night,” Skip said as placed a hand atop Peter’s thigh, just as he’d done the day before.

Peter felt hot breath on his neck as Skip moved closer. “You made me feel so good,” he whispered. 

At that, Peter felt wet warmth on his neck, cringing as he realized it was a tongue. Skips tongue. 

He closed his eyes, willing the blonde to stop, and oddly enough he did. Only to place his hand over Peter’s crotch. 

“I could make you feel so good, Einstein.” 

With that, Peter jumped up, not being able to take it anymore. “G-Get away from me.” 

“Oh, come on, Einstein, chill out. You’re what, fifteen? It’s time to loosen up, and I know just the way. So come here,” Skip walked closer. “And let me take care of you.” 

Peter bolted. 

He ran out the locker room door, straight through the gym, and to the bathroom on the other end of the school, not giving a second glance to anything or anyone, too afraid to see white blonde hair or a pearly smile. 

Bursting into the bathroom, he quickly locked himself into a stall and sunk to the floor, not even being able to care about how disgusting it was. Pulling out his phone, he dialed the one person he knew would always pick up, always save him, always _love_ him. His dad. 

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon, pick up,” Peter urged as the phone rang, tears rushing to his eyes when the call finally went through. 

“Peter?” his dad asked. “Peter? You’re in school; why are you calling? Did something happen?” 

“U-Um,” Peter sniffled. What was he supposed to say? One of my classmates was trying to molest me? 

“C-Can got co-me pick me up? I-I feel sick.” He settled with a lie; he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to tell his dad what had taken place. He knew his dad would blame himself; he always did. 

It didn’t take long before his dad had texted him he’d arrived, so Peter stood up off the grimy floor and made his way to the front office. Once face to face with his dad, it was almost impossible to keep his tears in check, biting his bottom lip to keep it from trembling. 

“Ready to go, Pete?” Tony asked, and Peter shook as he nodded. His dad placed an arm over his shoulders, leading him out of the school and into the car. 

As Peter made himself as small as possible in the seat, he heard his dad ask, “What happened, kiddo?” 

The words tried to leave his mouth, but the only thing that actually came out was a gag. 

“Whoa, kiddo, let me pull over!” Tony exclaimed as he saw Peter gag. Once he’d pulled over, Peter scrambled to unbuckle his seatbelt and throw himself out of the car, holding his stomach as he heaved over the grass. 

He felt light hands on his back, feeling guilty for tensing up when he knew they were only his dads. Still, he felt the ghost of Skip’s hands on his inner thigh, and that only intensified his urge to vomit. 

“Kiddie, I don’t think anything’s gonna come up,” he heard his dad say, not missing the sympathetic tone. He braced his hands on his knees and tried to nod, hoping his dad would take the hint that he just needed a minute. It wasn’t long before his stomach settled, the feeling of hands disappearing, and he was back in the car. 

Arriving home, Peter went straight to his room after chucking his backpack by the elevator door. He’d just gotten himself into bed when his dad walked in with ginger ale and some crackers, his face only showing sympathy, which served to make Peter feel rotten for lying. 

“You feeling any better, kiddo?” Tony asked, and Peter shrugged beneath the comforter. He watched as the man crouched in front of him, sitting up on one knee, and reached a hand up to brush the hair out of his eyes. He almost felt childish when he pulled his arms free and reached out for a hug, sniffling into his dads shoulder when he was embraced. 

“Thanks for picking me up,” he whispered, and when his dad responded, “I’d do anything for you,” he knew it was true. 

+

Tony’s concern only furthered as the night wore on. Peter had hardly left his bed other than to use the bathroom, and every time he checked on the boy he was met with a spaced out look. 

Later that night, he was yet again faced with a sleepy Peter asking to curl up next to him in bed, and he couldn’t deny the boy the comfort. Sick or not, something was obviously going on, and Tony intended to get to the bottom of it. They’d had the same sleeping problem before, two years earlier when Flash had first started picking on him. After taking Peter to see a therapist, Tony was told that kids often seek comfort at night, when the stresses of their day keeps them up. 

Now, here they were, Peter stuck to his side as he carded his hands through the boy’s hair and hummed softly to him. 

“You feeling okay?” Tony had asked, and similarly to the last time he’d been asked, Peter only offered a shrug in return. 

“You can tell me anything, you know that, right?” 

This time, Peter nodded snuggling in closer and shutting his eyes, making it apparent he was ready to go to sleep. 

Tony, however, was left reeling, and things didn’t change the next day either. He’d decided to let Peter stay home from school, seeing as how the boy was “sick.” 

“You want anything for breakfast, kiddo?” he’d asked, and frowned when Peter shook his head. 

“You haven’t eaten anything since yesterday afternoon,” he sighed, and this time, Peter frowned. 

“M’not hungry,” he’d murmured, taking Tony back to the times where Peter was still a child, refusing food and throwing temper tantrums. 

“If you’re sure,” he sighed again. “But you’re eating lunch, even if it’s something light.” 

When lunch time came around, Peter was still refusing his food, tears pearling in the corners of his eyes as Tony’s frustration became apparent. 

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, and Tony placed his face in his hands. 

“No, I’m sorry,” he replied. “I shouldn’t have gotten frustrated with you. If your stomach’s still acting up, I shouldn’t force you to eat.”

“It’s okay dad,” Peter responded, barely above a whisper. “I should eat something.”

With that, he nibbled on the crackers Tony had given him, and slurped down two bowls of soup that had been prepared, and when he’d finished that, he scurried back to his room without so much as a smile. 

Truth be told, Peter could hardly look his father in the eye. He hated lying to the man, but was the truth worth telling when it would only hurt him? What if his father didn’t believe him? The horrid thoughts raced through his head and left a stone in his stomach, the source of his sickness. Every time his thoughts drifted, they’d drift straight to the locker room and to the hands that had touched him far beyond comfort. 

‘ _I need to tell dad; he’ll understand. He’ll know what to do,_ ’ Peter thought. ‘ _But what if he doesn’t?_ ’ another part of him whispered. 

The decision was made when Tony entered his room an hour before he usually went to bed, the man sitting down on his bed and asking, “Do you think you’d be up for going to school tomorrow?” 

Everything came crashing down on Peter as he thought about what that entailed: gym class with Skip and hands...hands...hands...

“Whoa, whoa, calm down, buddy. What’s going on?” 

Peter didn’t even notice he’d started hyperventilating until he felt his dads hands on his shoulders, gripping him, grounding him. 

“I-I can’t. Dad, I can’t,” Peter plead, tears returning to his eyes once again as he became frantic. “Please don’t make me, dad, please.” 

“Kiddo, you need to tell me what’s going on here. Is Flash bothering you again? Do I need to go to the school?” 

If Tony was concerned before, he was absolutely reeling now. What could cause Peter to become so frantic at the thought of school? 

“I-It’s not Flash, dad, I promise,” Peter panted, shaking like a leaf. 

“Then what is it, Peter?”

With that, the dam broke. 

Peter burst into tears, grabbing at his dad’s shirt until the man got the hint and gathered him into his arms. 

“Th-There’s a boy,” Peter sobbed, and Tony hummed. 

“He touched me.” 

Tony swore he felt his whole world crumble. After everything he’d ever done to protect Peter, he hadn’t been able to stop a pervert. 

“What do you mean he touched you, kiddo? How bad?” Tony asked, hearing his heart beat in his ears but staying calm for Peter’s sake. 

“H-He didn’t go too far, I promise,” Peter hiccuped. “He touched my thighs, and tried to here,” Peter pointed to his crotch. “B-But only through my clothes, and I stopped him.” 

Tony sucked in a breath. “I am so sorry, Peter.” 

“D-Don’t apologize. I was scared to tell you be-because I knew you’d blame yourself.” 

At Peter’s admittance, Tony felt even more guilt swallow him up. His son hadn’t told him what was going on because he was afraid he’d blame himself, which he did. But knowing his son held back to protect him only hurt more. 

“Peter, listen to me. Never hold back because you’re afraid I might blame myself. I want to know everything, all the time. I love you more than anything in this world; my one purpose is to protect you,” he told his son, and he felt love bloom as Peter looked at him with so much trust, so much love he knew he didn’t deserve from such a kind soul. 

“I won’t, dad. I promise,” the boy replied, and he smiled as Tony cupped his face. 

“I love you so much, Peter.” 

“I love you too, dad.” 

“Now,” Tony breathed. “What do you say we get this son of a bitch?” 

Peter smiled, and if he never saw Skip again, or heard that he’d been denied entry to any and all colleges on the east coast come that spring, well, he couldn’t help but smile a little bit.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you guys thought! Also, sorry if the ending is kind of shitty, I’m really tired but I knew I needed to get something out. 
> 
> Thank you guys for reading and leave any feedback you have!


End file.
